A Sue For Each
by thejennamonster
Summary: An experiment in Deliberate Mary Sueness. PART TWO UP! (I'm having way too much fun with this.) like, dib and zim get girlfriendz and fallin luv and stuff. plz r and r!111!OMGWTF! (Not as poorly written as the summary, unfortunatly.)
1. Stage Set

A/n: This is what happens when I have been awake for way too long and have just spent an excruciatingly long amount of time reading some fics any their reviews, if only because silly drama makes me giggle when I'm sleep deprived and avoiding homework. So, in order to keep with this trend, I am going to write something that will make me giggle because I'm screwed up that way.

I am going to write a romance fic.

And not only that, but one with OC Mary Sues.

That's right. _Sues_. More than one. And perhaps a Frank for Gaz.

Lets see how this goes, shall we?

DISCALIMER: I don't own IZ. I do own, however, "Invader" Yoy and Alessa. Oh, and a headache. I own that, as well.

A Sue For Each.

PART ONE: Setting the stage.

IRKEN MASSIVE….0618 SIT….41.34.55567

"Invader Yoy!"

"I told you that this was a bad idea. It's early in the morning; she's not going to have finished her rejuvenation cycle, yet."

"Oh, come on, Purple, it will be fun. The computer can interrupt her cycle for 'important' business. Invader Yoy! This is your Tallest speaking. Attention, soldier!"

Yoy groggily came out of her rejuvenation cycle and stared at the screen that had lowered in front of her hibernation pod. She rubbed at one iridescent eye, trying to make sense out of the blurred shapes in front of her.

"Wha…what time is it?" she murmured.

"Time for you to come to attention, soldier!" Red answered, sharply, from the screen. His eyes narrowed at the small Irken before him. Yoy jumped, startled, her mind finally fully realizing what was going on, and jerked her hand to her forehead quickly in a salute.

"Sir! I apologize, my Tallest. I was in the middle of my rejuvenation cycle. Something must have malfunctioned, I didn't mean to sleep so—"

"There is nothing wrong with your equipment, Yoy, we woke you up."

Yoy was surprised, to say the least, but kept her expression neutral at this revelation, "You, my Tallest?"

"Yes. We have a mission for you. Something of great importance." Red turned to his companion on the screen, indicating with an eyebrow that he wanted Purple to take over the narration.

The violet eyed Irken scowled, but obediently cleared his throat and continued, "You see, Yoy, we have decided to give you a Special Assignment."

"Sir?"

"This assignment is _so_ special that it has only been given to one Invader besides yourself." Red could be seen snickering behind one claw like hand, and Purple elbowed him in the side with apparent irritation. He continued, however, undaunted, "You are going to be sent to Earth. It is roughly a six month journey from here, so be sure to provide yourself with the necessary provisions. You will be given a SIR unit for your mission. This is Top Secret classification, soldier. You will leave immediately. Speak to no one about this mission. That is an order."

"No offence meant, my Tallest," Yoy ventured, "but…what exactly _is_ that mission?"

Matching eerie grins formed on the Tallests' faces. "Your mission, Soldier, is to get rid of the 'Invader' that we sent to that planet 5 years ago." Purple stated. He looked over at his red eyed companion, wordlessly stating that he should continue.

"Invader Yoy, your mission is to…kill Zim."

oooIIIooo

EARTH……3:14AM EST….May 14th, 2005

Far away, on a distant blue marble that we call Earth, a lone girl lay on the roof of her house, staring up at the sky. In her hand was a small portable satellite dish which was connected to a pair of oversized headphones. Her eyes had almost closed for the night, as she had been on the roof for quite a while by now, when suddenly she sat up, jerking the headphones from her ears. She looked around, frantically, jerking her head from side to side, looking for something, anything, that could have interfered with the radio signals and made it so that she just heard the transmission that she both hoped and feared she had.

Seeing nothing, she jumped to her feet, clutching her headphones and satellite to her chest, and ran to the side of the roof, jumping off once she got there. She landed easily, rolling herself into a ball before she actually hit the ground. She ran into the house, the screen door banging shut behind her, and was at once overcome by the immense silence and solitude, which was all her house provided. Immediately her face fell, and she sighed, placed her equipment on the dining room table as she passed, and trudged up the stairs to her room.

oooOOOooo

A/n: So this is going to be harder than I thought. I'm ending the chapter here, even though it's pretty short and had yet to get to anything vaguely Mary Sue-like, but if I keep these things short I can put them up, faster. More than likely, after I post this, I'm gonna keep writing, so there will prolly be another update, soon.

But really…deliberately doing something that I dislike is going to be hard. But then, I've always liked a challenge. Fear not, tho, Faithful readers, the way I see it, in spite of the fact that this is supposed to be nothing but fluffy romance and goo (yes, GOO), I have an actual idea for a PLOT, so, it might be more interesting than I originally thought.

R and R, please.

j


	2. New Girls

A/n: So, here's a question, brought up by my mind based on the stories that was reading to come up with this whole experiment idea: why do people seem to hate this mysterious "Alliance" so much? What was this mysterious force that reported or deleted stories that were horrible or broke the rules (as is what I guess happened)? And why is it that the only people that I've seen complain are the people who are breaking the rules/write not so greatly?

People. Seriously. I am not the greatest author on this site. I can name a million and a half others who are better than me. However, I have at least a high school level grasp on the English language, so therefore, I feel as if I have room to talk. Some stories on here are just…painful to read. This is not the fault of the author, as most of the people on here are in middle or high school, and anyone who says that they wrote perfectly when they were that age would be lying to you. Hell, I'm on my third year of college, and I have definite room of improvement. Everyone here does. But I find it the most amusing that when someone offers Constructive Criticism (which is markedly different than a Flame, mind you), the author will get all up in a huff and not only Not take the advice, but publicly denounce the person trying to Help them.

Really, why bother posting somewhere where people can offer reviews and help and not take (or at least take note of) the advice offered? If your story has 20 reviews and 15 of those are "So this is alright, but you should watch your grammar and spelling, what are the character's motivations, etc) and the other 5 are "thz waz grate. rite more plz!11!" Really…who would you listen to? If nine out of ten people say that something is a duck, when it looks, smells, walks, and sounds like a duck, more than likely, it's a duck.

So honestly, people, Stop bitching about this "Alliance", stop getting all up in arms when someone criticizes your work, and stop breaking the rules and then getting indignant when your story gets deleted. We're all amateur authors here. None of us are getting paid for this, which is not, by the way, an excuse to write sub-parley. If anything, this site is a place where we should be working to Improve our skills by accepting the advice of others, and also a place where we should be helping others by providing said advice. On another, slightly bitchy note: poor spelling/grammar is Not covered under the First Amendment as "Freedom of Speech". Really. I promise.

So lets all just light a bong, sing a song, love too long, right some wrongs, and get along, shall we?

/rant

oooOOOooo

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Zim.

A Sue For Each.

PART TWO: The new girls.

EARTH….7:29am…Nov. 20th, 2005…

Alessa ran towards the school building at full speed, her messenger bag thumping a painful rhythm against her side. It was her first day at her new High Skool and already she was late. What a way to make a first impression.

Pounding her way up the stairs to the front door, she flung the metal and glass blockage open and skidded to a halt just in front of the main office. Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, she combed her fingers through her long, black and blue hair and took mental stock of her appearance to make sure she didn't look like a _complete_ loser. She was wearing baggy black pants that were loaded with zippers, making it hard to tell which pockets were real and which were fake, with two black studded belts that crisscrossed each other on her hips, and a tight black long sleeved t-shirt that had the words "I'm the girl your mom warned you about." written on it in blue fancy script. Over top of this all she wore a long, black leather trench coat that fell to meet a pair of rather formidable combat boots, again decorated with an array of zippers and buckles. Her bag was black, and covered in buttons, all with either band logos or random sayings on them, and was slung at an angle over one shoulder so that it hung at her side. After she was satisfied that she looked decent enough, she took one final deep breath and opened the door to the main office.

Entering the small room, her senses were assaulted immediately by the sound of one rather annoying, high pitched, grating voice shouting as loudly as possible. The noise seemed to be coming from a girl standing in front of the desk, flailing her arms around like an idiot.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I HAVE TO WAIT FOR THE OTHER GIRL!" the teenager screeched, "I HAVE VERY LITTLE TIME AND PATIENCE FOR THIS! I DEMAND THAT—"

Alessa winced at the noise and cleared her throat. The girl who was ranting stopped immediately at the sound and turned, quickly, to face the intrusion.

The two girls glared at each other for a few moments, sizing each other up. The loud female was a few inches shorter than Alessa's 5'4", but carried herself as if she were much larger. She was wearing a pair of skin tight leather pants and a red and black striped halter top. The tips of black boots could be seen peeking out from under the legs of her pants. On her back was a small half-circle backpack with dark red poka-dots on it. Her dark, almost black, red hair was pulled back into a high ponytail. The only things that set her apart from any _normal_ pissed off high school junior was the way that her eyes seemed to change colours depending on how she turned her head, and her skin tone, which was just a little too green to be considered olive. Alessa narrowed her eyes, and the girl mirrored the gesture.

"Oh, you must be Alessa!" an unbelievably perky voice broke through the tension. Both girls brought their attentions to the secretary as she came out from behind the desk. She looked back and forth between their faces, seemingly oblivious both to the murderous glares that the two were exchanging, and the fact that the mysterious girl had just been screaming at the top of her lungs only moments before.

"Now, if you would just follow me," the rather large, perky woman, continued, opening the office door, "I'll show you two to your homeroom. This way!" She called, walking off down the hall, her giant bottom wobbling in time with her steps. The two girls exchanged one last glare, and then followed, realizing that they didn't really have a choice, either way.

oooIIIooo

Dib was bored. Not only was he bored, but he was Super Bored. No, Super bored wasn't even enough to describe it. He was Super Duper Uber Extraordinarily bored. Actually, that wasn't even an accurate enough description. He was really—

A paper ball flew across the room, nailing him straight in the head, startling him from his reverie. He jumped a bit in his seat and then focused a withering glare in the direction that the ball hand come from. There was only one person that would have expended the energy to have thrown it (most of the kids just left him well enough alone by now, having grown bored of taunting him for his "craziness" part way through middle school.) Zim: the bane of his existence, the thorn in his side, the itching powder in his boxer shorts…well, you get the idea. The green boy was looking innocently up at the ceiling, whistling obnoxiously. Dib sighed, and bent over to pick up the paper ball, knowing that if he didn't, once Miss Bitters (who had, for some strange and disturbing reason, followed them to high school and was now their homeroom teacher) looked up from her book (a thick tome entitled _101 Ways to Cook Children_, which looked to be bound in human skin. Dib could swear that the little bump in the right hand corner of the cover was a nipple) she would blame him for there being trash on the floor by his desk, and he would spend yet another day in detention clapping erasers. Or worse, sorting the dirty jock straps in the boy's locker room.

He suppressed a shudder and uncrumpled the ball. On it was a rather detailed drawing of Dib missing a few rather important appendages. His head being one of them, which was drawn rather conveniently off to the side, away from his body, and about three times larger than normal scale. Dib crumpled the ball, again, and, standing, crossed the room to the trash can to throw it out.

"Real mature, Zim," he murmured as he passed the other boy's desk, "and my head isn't that big, asshole."

Zim just smiled a satisfied zipper-toothed smile and folded his hands just so on his desk, "Why, whatever are you talking about, Stink Dib? I'm just sitting here, waiting patiently for the bell to ring so that I can continue onto my first class to get some _wonderful_ public education like a _normal_ dirt-human."

Dib glared and shook his head, "Whatever, Zim." he answered, not in the mood to be baited by his enemy. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, what with Gaz having gotten the new Slave Station 4 home gaming consul. She had decided to hook it up to the surround sound speakers in the living room and Dib had spend the night with his pillow over his head in a vain attempt to block out the sound of zombie piggies exploding in the most disgusting way possible. Really, where did video games get the samples for some of their sound effects? Dib shuddered, attempting to repress that line of thought. There were some things he really just didn't want to know.

Dib had just settled himself back into his seat when the door to the classroom opened, revealing the office secretary, followed by two very sullen looking girls. The secretary whispered something to Miss Bitters, who looked more angry than normal at the fact that she had been interrupted from her reading, and then left. Miss Bitters rose and slithered to the front of her desk, her hand held out impatiently to the girls. Each of them obediently handed her their paperwork, which had been given to them on the way to the class room. The specter-like woman scanned over the pages, and then sent them both a glare that could very well have melted wood. She then sighed, obviously aggravated, and faced the rest of the class.

"Class, if I could have your attention, I would like to introduce to you the two newest Doomed members of your graduating class. Like the rest of you, they will be passed through the rest of this Horrible education system where they will learn enough to handle mediocre jobs at the local MacMeaties or some other minimum wage employment. Should they succeed beyond that, they will hate their lives so much that they will be forced to commit suicide, or teach Horrible children like You. Think on that while they introduce themselves and I wonder why I didn't choose to hang myself when I had the chance."

That said, Bitters slithered back behind her desk, and returned to her book, leaving the girls in front of the desk to fend for themselves.

One girl—the one with blue and black hair—took the initiative and stepped forward. Dib couldn't take his eyes off of her. Well, he couldn't really take his eyes off of either of them, considering the fact that they were both attractive, and he _was_ a seventeen year old boy, after all. But there was something about her. Some…dark sadness behind her eyes, which just drew him in. He mentally shook himself. It was stupid to get all mushy over girls. Most of them didn't even look his way to begin with, and those who did really weren't worth his time. They were all angsty Goth girls who thought that he was "deep" or "meaningful" and had names like Lyn or Dom or Raven. Plus, he didn't have time for distractions. He had a world to protect.

He was so deep in his thoughts that he almost missed it when the girl began to speak. Thinking it rude to ignore her, he focused his attention on her, once again being drawn in by those dark, sad eyes.

"Um…so, my name is Alessa, and I'm new here. Well, obviously, or else I wouldn't be standing up here all nervous and babbling like an idiot. Like I'm doing now. I really should shut up. Yeah. So I'm Alessa, and this is the first time I've been in a public school in a long time, so I hope to…I'm…" she lowered her eyes to the floor, realizing both that no one was really paying attention to her, and those that were probably thought she was an idiot by now, anyhow, "…I'm just gonna stop talking, now."

The girl took a step back and crossed her hands behind her back, finding something very interesting about the toes of her combat boots. Dib couldn't help but feel bad for the girl. It was obvious that she was shy, and not used to being around a lot of people. Maybe he could introduce himself…nah. He mental kicked himself, again, reminding himself to focus on his Purpose. The Sole Protector of Earth had no use for girls. Right. That was it. Now if only he could convince his heart, which had, for some reason, migrated to his throat, that.

The other girl cast a haughty glare at Alessa and took her place in the front of the class. She smiled seductively. "Hi. I'm Yoy, and I just moved here from…France." Some of the kids in the class perked up at the mention of another country. Dib couldn't help but notice the smirk on Yoy's face growing slightly, nor the troubled frown that had appeared on Alessa's when the other girl had mentioned her name. It was almost as if she were trying very hard to remember something…

"Anyhow, I hope that we all get to be good…friends." Yoy was continuing, her gaze turning strangely to Zim, who sat in his corner, looking rather uninterested, "And I would love it, if maybe, someone could, perhaps, show me—"

"YOU!" Alessa suddenly burst out, pointing at the other girl, "It was _you_ that I had heard a few months ago! You're an alien!"

Both Dib and Zim bolted up in their chairs. What was this?

Yoy looked slightly flustered, but kept her cool. "Excuse me? Alien? Well, I am from another country, but—"

"Don't go and play those mind games with me," Alessa growled, advancing on Yoy, her finger still pointed dangerously, "I heard your little transmission. You're some sort of spy from another planet! You're here to kill—"

"Oh, great, another one." Zita drawled from her place behind Zim, interrupting Alessa's tirade, "Hey, Dib, looks like you can finally have a girlfriend. She's just as crazy as you are!" she stated, aiming the rest of her sentence towards the other side of the room. Both Dib and Alessa blushed as the class burst out into laughter. However, neither of their attentions wavered from the red haired girl who still stood at the front of the classroom. Zim's eyes also hadn't left the front of the room, his brows furrowed as he frowned in concentration.

"I assure you, _Alessa_," Yoy began once the laughter died down, her voice dripping with menace as she said the other girl's name, "I am not here to _kill_ anyone. I am here simply to get my education, just like you, and every other normal Earth-monkey in this school."

At her last sentence, Dib and Zim exchanged a surprised look, which quickly turned into a glare. Earth-monkey? That could only mean that she was from one place, and whatever it meant that she was here, it was Not good.

"Furthermore—" Yoy was saying. Just then the bell rang, interrupting whatever new point she was going to make. The class, obviously finding leaving the room more important that listening to the two new girls bitch at each other, gathered their belongings and began to file out the door. Alessa and Yoy stood there, glaring at each other for a few more minutes, before Yoy gave a sweetly sarcastic smile and spun on her heels.

"I'll see you soon, Stink-human. And I'd watch your step, from now on, because it will be _very_ soon." That said, she quickly strode from the room, melding in with the tide of students filling the halls.

Alessa stood, frozen, her nails digging into her small palms in frustration. The _nerve_ of that girl…thing. She was so wrapped up in her fury that she barely even registered that someone was coming up behind her until she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Startled, she spun around to face the intruder, coming face to face with a very off kilter Dib.

"Whoa, I didn't mean to—" he began, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"What, are you going to make fun of me, too?" she demanded, cutting him off. Before he could say word otherwise, she spun around and stalked from the room, her anger and disappointment following her like a cloud.

Dib watched her leave, sighed, and followed her form the classroom.

Both teenagers were too wrapped up in their own problems to notice that Zim still sat in his seat, a disturbed expression on his face. Finally standing, he pressed a button on his wrist pad.

"Gir!" He barked into the communicator. In a few seconds, the small silver robot's head filled the screen.

"Yeeeeessssss?" Gir answered.

Zim started to walk from the room, realizing the Miss Bitters was glaring at him with a look of pure evil. He suppressed a shudder. He turned his attention back to the screen on his wrist, "I need you to go down to the labs and pull up any information that you can find on the name "Yoy." Search the Irken databases. I need as much as you can find."

"PIZZA COLOURED ANTS!" the android shouted and the connection was cut off. Zim sighed and turned around, making his way to the front doors of the school. He should have known better than to think that he could trust Gir with any sort of research. He would just have to do it himself. This was more important that his guise of being a normal high school student, anyhow. There was another Irken on Earth, and he needed to know why. His mission depended on it.

oooIIIooo

Meanwhile, on the other side of the school, a timid boy with light brown hair sat down next to a girl his same age who was playing a portable game consol. He cleared his throat, trying to get her attention. She ignored him. He tapped her on the shoulder. Her usual scowl grew darker, but she still ignored him. Finally he managed to get up all of her courage and let a single word fall from his lips.

"Gaz—"

He was rewarded with a fist to the face and a broken nose for his trouble. The boy lay on the floor for a moment, and then shuffled off towards the nurse's station. Another day another bruise. Tomorrow, he would just have to try harder to gain her attention.

oooOOOooo

A/n: So, in for those of you who may have picked up on it, I referenced the names of a few IZ sues. One of which was done by an author that I respect in the utmost, even though she doesn't write fan fiction, anymore, and the other, well, the other is the character in a series of stories that I read while coming up with the notion for this little experiment. The third name I just threw in there for the hell of it, cos it seemed like a generic Goth-Sue name (it's actually on the "Mary Sue Litmus Test" which I will say more about in a minute). Nothing personal is meant by the reference, this is all just in good fun. If the authors in question read this and get mad, well…can't really help that, can I? I welcome Flames, kids. I eat them for breakfast. They not only will make me giggle, but will prolly make me smile evilly for the rest of the week, because it is a Great feeling to know that you've gotten under someone's skin for Absolutely No Reason. So, come one, get pissed about a joke. I dare you.

In other news, according to the "Original Fiction Mary-Sue Litmus Test" Alessa has a score of 81 (only if I make the ending as I see it at the moment), and Yoy has a score of 76, making them Both "Irredeemable-Sues". (You're going to have to start over, my friend. I know you want to keep writing, but no. Just no.) Good. It seems as if I am going to be doing my job. The challenge remains though: will I be able to write this without my head exploding, OR, is a well written Mary Sue story possible?

Hmmm…

R and R, people. :)

Ps: I had déjà vu three times while writing this. Even had déjà vu of HAVING déjà vu…ugh.


End file.
